


Talk to me

by PaleoKitty



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Burnish as Found Family, Hand Holding and Hand Kisses, Hurt/Comfort, Late Night Conversations, Lio Fotia Really Needs Some Sleep, Living Together, M/M, One Shot, Post-Canon, Sharing a Bed, attempted humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27844264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaleoKitty/pseuds/PaleoKitty
Summary: Lio refuses to confide in anyone. Not since many of the Burnish have moved away from the semi-restored Promepolis. He's losing sleep and Galo wants to fix that with his burning soul - and a cup of microwaved tea!
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 10
Kudos: 56





	Talk to me

Galo’s apartment has been sleepless for days.

It’s 4:26am when Lio’s door _screeches_ once again. Light footfalls dance from the hall to the living room and back again.

Due to the shift-work Galo’s an abnormal sleeper, so it’s all too common that he finds himself awake, listening to Lio’s frequent pacing.

Though they’d only been living together for three weeks, Lio had yet to really settle into the place. Hell, Lio had yet to open up to Galo about this months-long work prior to now.

He’d moved into the spare bedroom – one which Galo previously used only for storage – after the city had reconstructed itself. Or, at least mostly. Before then, Lio slept at the city’s make-shift shelter, helping every last person (ex-Burnish or otherwise) find a place so stay. He’s always looking out for people, putting them well before himself. After all, the Burnish were Lio’s family; brought together by unfortunate means, but trusting and tough as nails. Galo regretted not realizing that fact sooner.

The sound of steps fades. Galo draws up the will to leave his bedroom; resisting the appeal of wrapping the covers back over himself. He takes one full breath in. On the exhale, he’s already out of bed, spurred on by too-early-in-the-morning energy.

Semi-darkness makes Galo’s trek to the common area a phenomenal display of crashes and near-collisions, but he manages to reach the end of the hall without stubbing a toe. Honestly, it’s a miracle amongst all the clutter. 

Galo spies Lio perching on the arm of their couch, facing the window. His hair hangs heavy from the day’s wear, a small ridge reminiscent of where it’s been tied back during work. With all of Galo’s fumbling between his room and the common area, Lio must already be alerted to his entrance, but provides no greeting. Perhaps Lio thinks his roommate only needs a glass of water, or milk, as Galo is apt to chug between bouts of sleep.

But instead of the kitchen, Galo’s feet trail into the living room. The place is small, sure, but houses the two of them just fine. The furnishings are mismatched, but it’s charming – at least to Galo. The couch is a sunken-in, three-seater Lio brought from the shelter; it’s got some sentimental value that he’s never elaborated on.

Neither says anything – the longer it bores on, the more awkward Galo feels. Hands restlessly fidget with the hem of his shorts as he mentally prepares an ice-breaker.

Lio beats him to it. “Trouble sleeping?”

A weary glance focuses momentarily at Galo, before pointedly returning attention on the window. The blocky thing doesn’t let in much light – it faces the wrong way for that – but offers a decent view of the street below. Little lights move along predestined paths, interrupted by drab buildings. 

“Oh, _um_ , yeah,” Galo fumbles. “Can I join you?”

“I don’t see why not.” It’s curt, not _completely_ inviting but far from condemning the act. Galo moves closer, slumping onto a nearby storage ottoman. He tries not to stare at Lio, his drawn features and smudged eyeliner. Galo also tries to not let his own expression betray his concern.

But the attempt must not be effective because Lio’s meticulous eye for detail revels him in a matter of seconds.

“You look distressed,” Lio speaks in a controlled voice. “I can head to my room if you’d prefer be a-“

“No! That’s not it! I swear.” Galo’s reactive nature kicks-in, he’s much louder than intended. “Sorry. I didn’t mean...”

“It’s fine.”

“No, Lio, my mistake. I’m working on it. Promise."

“I said it’s fine, Thymos.”

Galo feels out of place; he knows Lio’s turned halfway to look at him, but Galo can’t bring his own head to match those sharp eyes. He doesn’t want to see the irritation that he expects there.

Lio emits a shallow huff.

“Galo... I’m not upset. I just… don’t want to trouble to you,” he finishes quieter than before.

“Don’t think that for even a second, Lio!” Galo finally meets Lio’s eyes, finding a lopsided frown; there’s something distant about it. “You’ve never been a bother – not to me or anyo-“

“You can’t be so sure of that,” Lio cuts in. The cold inflection is back, armor around the glimpse of vulnerability.

“But _I_ can speak for _myself_ just fine. And, _to me_ , you have never been that.” Galo articulates his opinion, again, too loudly.

This is not how Galo wanted things to go. It’s still too earlier in the morning (or late in the nighttime) and anxiety makes him speak before thinking things through. Galo scratches the back of his neck instinctually – as he does when things exceed his comfort zone. And amid the worry, he finally remembers to take two deep inhales, letting fresh air cool his head.

Lio hasn’t broken the short silence, so Galo continues:

“Sorry I struck a nerve. I’m not too good with feelings.”

Lio remains quiet, gazing back out the window. Where before his posture was nonchalant, an afterthought, he’s recoiled now; a defensive position Galo’s witnessed at his job. The urge to wrap the other in a comforting embrace worms its way to the surface of thought. Galo pushes the notion down – he doesn’t want to intrude any further.

“Lio…” Galo taps both feet unconsciously, feeling like each new word only rubs more salt in the rift between them. “I-I’m sorry I opened my damn mouth. I should just head back to bed. You deserve some space.”

He pushes off from the furnishing, but remains rooted to the spot. Even in the early gloom, Galo can make out the straining of ligaments and muscle in Lio’s neck. He’s holding his tongue, biting the inside of his cheek – a habit Meis forewarned Galo about.

Lio’s always been good at putting on a brave face, harnessing his strength of will to overcome any challenge. There was nothing that could possibly get in the way of Lio Fotia once his mind was made up.  
But Lio also wouldn’t confide in anyone, not since Gueira and Meis departed on a road trip together. They promised to send postcards, Galo promised them a couch to crash on anytime. And – though Galo kept it to himself– he’d seen Lio brushing away tears the following days.

But, unlike Meis, Galo’s not a great listener. Neither has he been through the desolation the three of them survived together. Galo knows he’s worlds apart, on outsider to Lio’s troubles. But he wants to learn to be better. Galo want to make an effort, not only for Lio’s sake, but for himself.

“I know, I know. I’m screwing this up worse each time I say _anything_. But I’m not gonna stop _trying_. Lio, we’re roommates, we’re _partners_ – I want to make sure you feel comfortable talking to me…” A self-conscious warmth crawls up Galo’s neck and, this time, he deliberately musses with his hair. Anything to keep his hands from rattling under their skin. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, If you don’t wanna talk, that’s cool. But, I need to know if I’m stepping over any of your boundaries. Okay?”

“Galo, that’s not…” Lio lets the curtness fall away again, he’s relaxed his jaw at least.

“Then please help me understand! I know you’re not sleeping much. You’ve gotta let me know… just anything… please.”

“I-it’s really complicated,” Lio musters up. He flexes his left hand as if by impulse; wiry tendons shifting to unfurl fingers, then roll them back together when nothing happens. Galo understands the motion.

“Well – lucky for you, I’ve got all the time in the world.”

“You sure are persistent, Thymos.”

“I wouldn’t be any other way,” Galo grins through his nerves. It’s a start. “Do you want a cup of tea or somethin’?”

“I didn’t know you drank anything but sports drinks and coffee.”

“ _Hey!_ I’ve gotta keep my electrolytes in balance.”

Lio chuckles dryly, albeit dully. He’s shifted off the armrest, now sitting on the couch proper, to better face Galo (who takes this as a small victory).

“I’ll take whatever you have then. So long as it’s not expired.”

Galo happily obliges, taking leave for the kitchenette. It’s nothing fancy, just tea bags steeped in microwaved water, but it gives him a moment to collect his thoughts again. It gives him an opportunity to care for Lio like Lio’s done for so many others.

Between the reconstruction and ongoing efforts to help his Burnish family, Lio’s barely had time to visit Galo at the station – let alone sort out his own stressors. Surely, Galo assumes, he is still coming to terms with it all; the loss of family, his closest confidants, people who shared his grief. An isolation Galo himself could not fathom. A multitude of barriers that kept him alive as a fugitive, alive to see another dawn.

Galo switches on a lamp as he returns. Passing a mug to Lio, he plants himself back on the ottoman – which groans under the sudden pressure.

Lio shift the glossy ceramic between his hands, then tucks a section of hair behind his ear to inhale the steam. His eyes close to the rising heat; he looks tranquil, if only for a second. To Galo, it’s a picturesque moment.

“It’s just some blend Heris gave everybody at the station – she said something ‘bout needing to take a good long break when this was all over. I figured now was as good a time as any,” Galo shrugs. To him, tea always smells better then it tastes, be he’s willing to humor Heris’s good intentions.

“Thanks.” Lio stares into the cup, the sachet bobs along the water’s surface. “It’s nice. It’s _warm_.”

Galo’s not sure how to respond. After getting riled up before, he’s weighing words more carefully now. He simply nods and takes a sip, half-choking on how hot the liquid is. Hot and scented like warm summer days.

“I owe you an apology too, Galo.”

“ _Uh_ , why?” Galo coughs out.

“From earlier – you’re right. You deserve honesty, Galo. I haven’t been sharing what needs to be aired… It’s not that I don’t trust you. It – It’s hard to put into words is all.”

It’s Galo’s turn to frown, not in a disappointed way, but out of concern. Lio smiles weakly in reassurance.

“Is it because things are returning to ‘normal’?” Galo has to air-quote the last word.

Lio nods, the hand free from holding the mug stretches to grab something that’s not there. “I hadn’t realized that letting go of the Promare also meant… letting go of people too…”

Galo hums an audible condolence. He can’t find the right words, but he can listen until they come.

“They brought us together, people from many paths and places. And in nearly all regards, it – life – was _Hell_ , Galo.” Lio sips loudly, perhaps trying to discern how else to explain. Perhaps trying to distance himself from sharing the things that hurt. “But the flames kept us together. We survived as long as we helped one another. Now – things are fading away to how they used to be. It’s like – watching your family leave piece-by-piece. The things you loved… ashes in the wind.”

Lio’s returned to watching the mug, flicking the string of the tea bag with a too-thin finger. The wisp of hair has fallen back into his face but he doesn’t move to fix it this time.

“Maybe… I hadn’t realized how lonely I was… Until I wasn’t anymore. It’s so – so _selfish_ of me.”

Galo catches tears peeking around the corners of Lio’s eyes. And he wants to smooth each one away with calloused hands; to tell Lio that it’s okay to cry, he won’t ever be judged for it. He wants to show this man he’s not alone – he never will be. No so long as Galo is still breathing.

And though it might not be much in the moment, Galo offers a hand out to Lio’s.

Lio takes it like a lifeline. His hand is rigid and cold, unlike Galo’s own. Lio looks quickly away to wipe off what tears still challenge to run free of his eyes with a practiced motion.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Galo repeats while running a thumb across Lio’s hand, hoping to bring some warmth back to where it belongs.

“They’re gone. I can’t help them anymore, Galo. How can I trust everything will be ‘okay’?” Lio’s voice wavers as he fights off the emotion. “Why - Why do I feel so…”

“Lio. Lio – please look at me,” Galo coaxes.

He does, and Galo can see the tremor in his lip. Lio’s hand tightens defensively while his jaw gnaws at something he can’t quite verbalize.

“Lio. _Shhhh._ You’re not selfish at all– You’ve done so much for them.” Galo pauses to set the cup down (somewhere it hopefully won’t spill, but he’ll worry about that later). “You’ve given them hope and a new life, Lio.”

This time Galo does reach out to sweep a tear from Lio’s cheek – Lio half-snorts but doesn’t pull away.

“… Thymos, why are you so nice to me?” It’s a genuine question, not the snarky, rhetorical brand Lio usually asks.

“Well, ‘cause you’re the nicest person I know,” Galo beams back. This earns Galo another half-snort and he takes it as laughter.

“You don’t need to flatter me just because we live together.”

“Well, _you_ don’t have to cheapen my words just ‘cause we do!”

“ _Touché_.”

They both let a comfortable silence fall over the room. Lio finishes whatever tea remains, making a small grimace which Galo assumes is because it’s gone cold. Cold tea is even worse in Galo’s very limited experience.

Outside, the winter sky has grown marginally lighter – though it’s far from sunrise.

“Lio?”

“ _Hmm_?”

“I… I have something to give you. It’s not a replacement for the Promare, but…” If Galo could see his own face, it would reflect a redness not previously there.

Lio’s attention is piqued, he inclines his head in permission.

Delicately, Galo lifts Lio’s hand to his lips, palm-up. With as much tenderness has he can gather, Galo places a kiss in the center, lingering a moment before wrapping Lio’s fingers around it. Galo cups both his own hands around Lio’s and plants a second kiss on top.

“S-so you remember you’re not alone. I’m always with you, Lio. Just like the Promare – just like all the Burnish you’ve helped.” Galo stutters at first, a little embarrassed by how sappy it he’s being. It sounded much better in his head. But he catches Lio’s face burning a fiery pink, crossing to his ears.

“Y-you’re too kind to me, Galo…”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way!”

When Galo frees his hand, Lio draws the blessing to his chest and holds it tight. “I’ll treasure it always.”

“You better! Or I guess I’ll have to keep reminding you.” Galo wiggles his brow humorously.

“You know… I wouldn’t mind that, _Thymos_.”

“I’m not giving you permission to be reckless with that power, _Fotia_.”

“ _Hmm_ , we’ll see about that.” But, despite himself, Lio yawns. It’s been at least four days since he’s gotten any solid sleep after all. Probably longer. “But… sleep first…”

Galo’s quick to offer his room, but Lio automatically waves the idea away. He’s got his own bed for a reason after all – it would be a waste not to use it. Galo doesn’t point out that it’s largely to accommodate their separate work schedules.

“Get some sleep this time,” Galo calls after his partner, moving both mugs to the sink. If Lio responds, it’s no more than a hand wave (which Galo misses, too intent on the growing pile of dishes). The aftermath of anxiety catches up to him and he reluctantly follows suit, his head full of thoughts as he returns to bed.

But, approximately twenty minutes later, there’s a hesitant knock at Galo’s room. Lio mumbles something about it being too cold, averted eyes betraying the obvious cover-up.

Galo doesn’t mind one bit. He’s got plenty of warmth for both of them to share; due in part to the multitude of covers hanging off the mattress. Lio scoots into the opposite side and lets Galo re-adjust the comforter (as Galo is apt to hog most of the blankets to his preferred side). Galo stares up at the ceiling, listening to Lio’s deepening breaths until he dozes off himself.

And that morning is the first time both of them sleep well in Galo’s – no, _their_ apartment.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! While the style is a little monotone, I did enjoy writing a long-form dialogue! I'm still improving and finding my groove writing for these two, but I'll keep giving it my all until then!  
> I'm still deep in the Promare brain-rot and likely won't recover; wish my senior thesis luck!  
> Again, thanks y'all ^u^


End file.
